Japanese film-maker Yoji Yamada, in the
fourth decade of his film-making career, made his best feature-film “The Twilight
Samurai” (2002). It is a story of a non-glamorized samurai, whose daily
existence, desires and dreams are threatened to be trampled by the volatile
decisions of ‘big’ men. I was not aware of Yoji Yamada’s works before “The Twilight Samurai”. Even now, I have
only seen three of his works made before 2000 (Yamada was mostly popular for
launching ‘Tora-san’ series – a
longest running film series about a endearing drifter). What I liked about this
film and the subsequent “The Hidden Blade”, “Love and Honor” (along with
“The Twilight Samurai”, these three stand-alone films are known as
‘Samurai Trilogy’ -- not to be confused with Hiroshi Inagaki's 'Samurai Trilogy' of the 1950's) is how Mr. Yamada takes the traditional samurai
character and views them through their everyday social life, transformed and
trampled by the ever-changing political environment. There’s wealth of domestic
details in here; the characters rise from being ‘types’ and become
utterly convincing ‘personalities’.
The infusion of themes like female emancipation, single parenthood,
submitting to superior order, etc would also strongly resonate with modern
viewers, who is on the look out for enriching, humanistic movie experience. The
most unforgettable aspect of “Twilight Samurai” for me is the
unexpectedly brilliant third act, where we witness an aural-visual elegy that
instills hope as well as incites few tears to shed for the human condition.

Our Rating: 8.0IMDb Ratings: 8.1

Genre: Comedy | Crime | Drama

Cast: Hiroyuki Sanada, Rie Miyazawa, Nenji Kobayashi

Country: Japan

Language: Japanese

Runtime: 129 min

Color: Color

The film opens with the death of Seibei
Iguchi’s wife, on one wintry day, in the 1860s Japanese. It was the era of
volatile political/military situations and waning days of Edo period (Edward
Zwick’s “The Last Samurai” was also set in this era). Samurai Iguchi
(Hiroyuki Sanada) isn’t at a prominent position to do make any sociopolitical
decisions. He is a low-ranked samurai, who gets only an annual stipend of 50
koku rice. The economic hierarchy within the samurai order is intriguing. The
day-to-day work they do in their clan offices is as dull and boring as our desk
jobs. The workers laugh to their worn-out jokes from boss and plan together to
visit the local pub after work. After his wife’s death, Iguchi juggles between
the low-paying accountant job (maintains inventory for the Lord’s stores of
grains) and takes care his two sprightly young daughters (10 year old Kayano
and 5 year old Ito) and the old, senile mother. He makes insect cages to make
ends meet. And, despite the self-absorbed, thoughtful nature, Iguchi is a
wonderful father, who encourages his daughters to learn books for thinking on
their own. His commitment to family which makes him rush back to home,
immediately after work, has brought him the nickname ‘Twilight Samurai’.
Iguchi’s robes are tattered and the innumerable duties don’t even give him time
to take care of personal hygiene. One day, clans’ Lord notices Iguchi’s grimy
state and he becomes a laughing stock among his peers.

Hiroyuki Sanada as Samurai Iguchi making Insect cages with his eldest daughter to make ends meet

A chance conversation with a wealthy,
old friend brings him news about old childhood friend Tomoe (Rie Miyazawa), who
has recently got divorced from an abusive samurai husband Koda (with an annual
stipend of 1200 koku rice). Despite being a pacifist, Iguchi is forced to
defend Tomoe’s honor as her divorced husband, one day causes a ruckus. Iguchi
does have a past of getting trained to be master swordsmen, but as he says at
one point in the narrative: he has lost the desire to yield the sword. But,
situation forces him to take the challenge of Koda. Iguchi only goes with a
wooden sword and wins Koda with one perfect knocking blow. The news reaches Tomoe
and through her brother, she tells about the desire to remarry Iguchi. He
rejects the marriage offer, out of fear that she could never live in such
impoverished conditions. And, once the news the fighting prowess of Iguchi
reaches the high orders of clan, it brings him more problems. He is pulled into
participate in life-threatening confrontations as clan rebellion looms in the
near-future.

The plot description of “The Twilight
Samurai” would make it like an overly sentimental tale of the lost era.
There are little doses of melodrama, but Mr. Yamada’s writing & direction
makes it a most meditative film about samurai lifestyle. Unlike, many historic
films, Yamada isn’t singing paean for an era or its heroes; he is lamenting for
the protagonist who was born into a wrong era, filled with violence and
blood-lust. But that doesn’t make it an entirely revisionist or deconstructive
samurai film. There is some romanticism diffused in the depiction of samurai,
although for the most part it also humanizes them. Samurai aren’t just seen
through the stricter framework of Bushido codes. We get to know their dilemmas
and the urge to escape before they set out to follow or thwart the rigid
hierarchical orders. The story’s narrator Ido (as an old lady she recalls her
childhood days) exhibits a sense of nostalgia, which is not for the land or the
era, but only for the love and hope Iguchi bestowed upon them. The landscape
awaits bloodshed, while the rivers carry the corpses of famine-afflicted farmer
families. This unforgiving political and economical structure is used perfectly
to intensify the turmoils of a common-man like Iguchi.

The name ’twilight’, although
mocks at Iguchi’s plight, mourns for the fading glory of a progressive man,
born to a relentless setting. Yamada uses wide shots of Iguchi, standing before
backdrops of sunsets and golden-hued sky to convey that feeling. At the end,
samurai Zenemon, who is about to take his final journey also talks about a
‘twilight’, indicating the samurai way of life. In one scene, Iguchi
comments on the beautiful blossom of azaleas, only to foreshadow the arrival of
luminous Miss Tomoe. The fishing scene between Iguchi and his friend also
offers a fine visual symbolism, where the friend talking about the Tomoe’s
marriage offer isn’t able to make the fish take its bait. The old mother,
towards the end, picks up egg in the yard, wondering why the chicken laid it in
the wrong place, where the egg could have easily got trampled. This may
symbolize the present and near-future events of the era, where simple folks got
crushed under the Lord’s vicious scheme to attain great positions. There are
many such unsubtle as well as subtle metaphors and visual references in the
narrative. Nevertheless, Yamada’s fantastic achievement is not just the diffusion
of symbolism, but the utterly convincing manner he details the people’s life.
Like the masterful film-maker Ozu, director Yamada has the eye to make
ordinary, mundane life look so beautiful and relatable.

Those who are expecting a gritty, violent
samurai picture would be immensely bored by “The Twilight Samurai”. There is
violence, but the central character is quite aware that none of his problems
could be solved by little bloodshed. It is what makes the final conversation
and sword fight engaging and profound. The final fight, within the close
quarters, starts with an elegant conversation which touches upon the inhumane
afflictions, faced by Samurai (exhausted samurai Zenemon’s face reminded me of
the humanist samurai we saw in the Mr. Kobayashi benchmark works). A momentary
slip of information, on the part of Iguchi, suddenly leads to the fight. It
wasn’t much of cinematic fight, where you precise blows. Both of them bumble
like drunken men on the dance floor, while fighting for mere survival than for
honoring the ‘codes’. It is this incredibly moving sequence transcends
some of the previous, predictable narrative beats. Yamada’s approach in staging
the long, ending sequence is totally lacks heavy-handed nature. There’s also
enough gentle humor to upend the rising distresses. I particularly liked the
way Yamada treats Tomoe, as a woman questioning things and looking for a
change. While her character is restricted by the era’s societal values, she
isn’t simply depicted as agent of love or element changing protagonist’s fate.
There’s a mutual respect between them than just blinding love and as much as
Iguchi saves her honor, she too help Iguchi to uphold his honor (of course, the
interplay between them doesn’t totally break the traditional mold, but I liked
the slight fine-tuning of the routine characterizations). Sanada is one of the
best contemporary Japanese actors and he plays Iguchi with amazing restraint
(he played Ujo in “The Last Samurai”).
When faced with dire situations, the surface of his face shows perfect, little
strain to demonstrate the inner pain rather than relying on loud
histrionics.

Swords drawn in close quarters, Iguchi faces Zenemon in the movie's pivotal scene

“The Twilight Samurai”
(129 minutes) is a moving elegy about simple individuals swept up by unkindly
hierarchies, politics and economics. It doesn’t say that ‘love conquers all’,
but it does insinuate that nothing is more important than love.

About Author -

Arun Kumar is an ardent cinephile, who finds solace by exploring and learning from the unique works of the cinematic art. He believes in the shared-dream experience of cinema and tries to share those thoughts in the best possible way. He blogs at Passion for Movies and 'Creofire'.